


She's Home

by HeavenlyDisaster



Series: The Wolf and the Bull [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Gendrya - Fandom
Genre: F/M, post 8x02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 14:02:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18801799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeavenlyDisaster/pseuds/HeavenlyDisaster
Summary: Gendry's take on that scene from 8x02 plus what happened between the end of 8x02 and the beginning of 8x03.





	She's Home

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is late. I've been sitting on this for a while. Originally, I had Sansa walk in on them, but the Hound makes more sense I think. Especially now that we know that he knows.

The two halves of the spear slid together neatly.  The way he’d fixed the leather handholds that met in the center made it look like one continuous weapon.  Unless you knew better, you wouldn’t know that it could be pulled apart and fashioned into duel spears.  Gendry swung it around by each end experimentally.  It needed to be flawless.  It had to be his _best_ work.

Gendry looked around the forge.  He was the only one left working.  The other smiths had gone to prepare for the battle.  To say their goodbyes to their loved ones.  Gendry looked at his mace lying on the shelf beneath his workbench.  He should say goodbye, too.  Or… good luck.  Or… something.  He should definitely say… something.

Gendry sniffed at the cold.  He’d worked himself into a sweat over the past few days.  Now that he finished his last weapon, the cold had settled in.  He set the spear on his workbench and went in search of his tunic and cloak.  He paused before he put his clothes on.  He was filthy.

Jon had mentioned the hot springs that furnaced Winterfell.  The baths that lay beneath the castle.  He’d suggested them to him a time or two after Gendry had complained of the cold.  Now, Gendry took advantage.  He scrubbed the grime from his body.  Arya would be expecting her weapon soon.  He just had to find her.  Then he could tell her….  Well, he’d work out what he was going to say later.

He dressed in clean clothes before returning to the smithy for her weapon.  He stopped outside.  Where would she be?  With her family maybe?  Gendry saw Jon up on the battlements with his Night’s Watch friends.  No Arya.  He headed into the castle.  She was around somewhere no doubt.

He spotted the vibrant red hair of Arya’s sister.  The Lady of Winterfell.  He started for her, expecting Arya at her side.  Instead, it was a man with curly brown hair.  He tried to remember if he’d met the man before.  Gendry guessed not.  There was some sort of sea creature engraved on his armor.  He certainly would have remembered seeing something like that before.

Gendry huffed and spun back around.  _Not with family, then_?  He fiddled with the yellow ribbon he had fixed around the shaft of the spear.  Where else would she have gone?  The battle was hours away.  Death was hours away.  What could she possibly be spending her time doing that took priority over her family?

Gendry walked back outside and nearly plowed into Arya’s other brother.  The crippled one.  He apologized profusely and clutched at the spear with both hands.  Bran.  That was his name.  The boy gazed up at him with cool eyes.  Like he was unsurprised by Gendry’s appearance.

“Arya’s in the storeroom just off the forge.”  Bran announced unprompted.

Gendry took a step back, fighting a blush.  The boy was strange.  He’d heard rumors about Ned Stark’s last true born son.  None he believed.  Not really.

“Thanks.”  Gendry said.  He started for the storeroom, but turned back.  “I’m just making sure she has her weapon before, uh, they get here.”  He explained.

“I know.” He said, simply. 

Gendry thought maybe he should say something more, but the boy was making him uneasy.  There was a knowing look in his eyes that made Gendry want to bury himself.  He gave the lord a short nod and continued to the storeroom hoping he wasn’t being sent in the wrong direction on purpose.

The solid _thunk_ of arrows landing on a target told Gendry he was in the right place even before he saw her.  His throat tightened just looking at her.  She was nothing like the girl he’d left.  She had been a wild little thing.  Her hair was always everywhere.  She was noisy and loved roughhousing and rolling in the mud.  The new Arya was still wild, but she hid it now.  She was quiet.  Too quiet.  She didn’t roughhouse.  She wasn’t a child anymore.  She was a woman.  A beautiful woman.

Gendry gave his head a small shake.  He shouldn’t be thinking of her that way.  She was still a highborn lady and he was still a lowborn bastard from Fleabottom.  Still, she made it hard.  Especially with the way she was looking at him earlier that morning.  He never expected to see that lustful gaze on Arya Stark’s face.  He never expected it to excite him so much.

He stepped out of the shadows and cleared his throat as she let loose her last arrow.  She looked over her shoulder at him.  Her eyes went to the spear immediately.  The corner of her lips tipped up just a touch.

“That for me?” She asked, though she knew it was.

Gendry swallowed and held it up for her.  He still hadn’t figured out what he was going to say to her.  Words stuck in his head all jumbled up.  He could feel his heart beating in his ears.  She set her boy down on some barrels and took the spear from his hand.  She glanced at him before turning and walking away a few steps, twirling the spear easily.

“This’ll work.”  She flipped it around her body again.

 _What do I say_?  He demanded of himself.  _Remember when you said you could be my family?  Does the offer still stand?_ Gendry frowned.  That was stupid.  She was probably still mad about how he planned to stay with the Brotherhood.  She had _begged_ him to come with her to Winterfell.  He should’ve just sucked it up and said yes.

“Last time you saw me you wanted me to come to Winterfell,” he started slowly.  Uncertain that these were the right words, but knowing he needed to say something now or never.  “Took the long road, but….”  Understatement of the season.

Arya narrowed her eyes at him.  She moved toward him, still flipping her new spear.  Gendry leapt out of the way as she passed.  “What did the Red Woman want with you?”  She asked.

Gendry grimaced and leaned against a barrel.  He wondered how much to tell her.  Less would be better.  “She wanted my blood.  For some kind of spell.”  _A spell that likely killed your older brother_.  He clenched his teeth together.

Arya flipped her spear from front to back along her body.  “Why your blood?” She asked, focusing on the movement on the spear.

Gendry took a slow breath.  He’d told Jon easily enough at the caves in Dragonstone, he could tell Arya.  “I’m Robert Baratheon’s bastard.”  She caught the spear on her shoulder.  A bewildered expression filled her face.  “I didn’t know until she told me.”  He explained quickly, lest she get the wrong idea and think he’d purposefully hidden that detail from her after she’d trusted him.  “Then she tied me up, stripped me down, put leeches all over me.”

Gendry didn’t like to think about it.  He had worked extra hard to erase that miserable night from his mind.  It wasn’t hard to do.  His head had felt light and airy after his second sip of the summerwine she’d fed him.  He worked it out later in his cell in the dungeon that she must have put something else in the drink after all.

Arya moved past him again.  Her brow was furrowed in thought.  “Was that your first time?”

Gendry frowned.  Where had she been that have leeches put on you was a normal occurrence?  He shook his head.  “No, yeah, I’ve never had leeches put all over my cock –”

“Your first time with a woman.” She said, setting her spear down on a stack of crates.

Gendry’s heart dropped into his stomach.  “ _What_?”  He crossed over to her.  “I… I didn’t – I wasn’t _with_ her.”  He stammered.

Arya turned to him calmly.  She worked her glove off her hand, staring at him with those steely eyes.  “Where you with other girls?  Before that, in King’s Landing?  Or after?”  She asked in the same tone someone might ask about the weather or the harvest.

 _This is a trap.  I dunno how, but it’s a trap.  She’s getting back at me for the Brotherhood thing._   Gendry couldn’t decide if he should answer truthfully or lie.  He _wanted_ to lie.  He _wanted_ to find an excuse to leave and maintain some semblance of pride if he had any left.

“You don’t remember?” Arya pressed.  She flopped her gloves down beside her spear.

Gendry let out a sigh.  “Yes.  I was.” He said, firmly.  He refused to be embarrassed about it.  He hadn’t ever thought to see her again anyway.  He’d _hoped_ of course, but never expected.

A small glimmer of anger crossed her face so briefly he might have missed it if he weren’t watching for any sign that she was about to slug him.  He was suddenly very aware that this was the first time they’d been completely alone together since the cave.  The first time in Winterfell when they hadn’t been surrounded by other smiths and the Hound.

“One?  Two?  Twenty?” Arya continued.

 _What the hell is she hoping to gain here?_   Gendry was flushing brilliantly.  “I didn’t keep count.”  He lied.

Arya stood across from him now.  Her hands were held behind her back.  She had an easy confidence about her while Gendry just wanted to curl into a ball and let her kick him until she got tired.  Gods she was gorgeous.

“Yes, you did.” She said with no room for argument.

Gendry dropped his head and sighed heavily.  She wasn’t going to drop it.  She never did.  Always pushing and prodding until she was satisfied with the answers.  Ever since they were kids and the gold cloaks had come searching for him.  He never could lie to her much less keep a secret from her.

“Three.” He admitted.  He looked up at her hesitantly.

She looked him up and down in an appraising sort of way.  He wished he could work out what she was thinking.  He wished she didn’t look so ridiculously attractive.  She had been so scrawny and filthy when he’d known her.  He tried to dredge up that memory, but could only see the woman before him.

She swallowed and took a slow step toward him.  Gods he wanted to kiss her.  He wanted her to want to kiss him.  It was a bad thing to wish.  He tried to imagine all the ways Jon might disembowel him if he ever learned how Gendry lay awake at night thinking of his little sister.  It didn’t help that she sauntered over to him like she was thinking the same things.

“We’re probably going to die soon.” She said matter-of-factly.  She was so close.  He saw her swallow hard.  What did she have to be nervous about?  “I want to know what it’s like before that happens.”  She whispered and Gendry could hear just a touch of fear in her voice that she was working hard to conceal.

She stared up at him with those wide, beautiful eyes.  Gendry took an extra second or two to process what she had just said.  In what was possibly her final hours, Arya Stark of Winterfell wanted to know what it was like.  What sex was like.  With him.  _WITH HIM_!?

She was waiting for him to answer.  He needed to answer, but all of his focus had suddenly gone to her mouth.  The lips he so badly wanted to kiss.  So, _so_ badly.  His breathing was coming heavier.  She was so close to him.

“Arya, I –”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence because Arya had pulled his face down to hers and kissed him.  It was just fine by him since he hadn’t entirely worked out the rest of what he planned to say in the first place.  And it felt so good.  She felt so good.

She undid his cloak from his shoulders and he shrugged it off.  _Holy shit.  She means it!_   Gendry marveled as she worked at his belt.  Gendry moved his hands to her belt searching for her mouth that had disappeared from his.  Her hands went to her own tunic as she kissed him back.  Gendry couldn’t help himself, he let out a small laugh of disbelief and excitement.  Arya laughed with him, like she was just as excited as he was.

She relieved him of his shirt and grabbed his face again to kiss him.  Gendry wanted to hold her to him.  To kiss her until he couldn’t possibly kiss her anymore.  Her hand moved from his face to his chest and she shoved him back hard.

Gendry landed on a stack of grain sacks.  He stared up at her, holding his breath.  _She changed her mind.  I did something wrong and now she’s changed her mind_.  But she hadn’t.  Her hands worked at the ties on her shirt before she grabbed the hem and yanked it over her head.  Gendry watched in fascination until he saw her belly.

Scars laced her body from long healed wounds.  Gendry’s mouth ran dry.  She hadn’t had those before.  Gendry hadn’t seen her naked before, but he knew.  Those were new.  Something terrible had happened to her.  Based on the multitude of scars and their positions, Gendry knew it was lucky she was even still alive.  Something he might have prevented had he stayed with her like she’d asked.

“I’m not the Red Woman.” Arya announced, bringing his attention back to the task at hand.  “Take your own bloody pants off.”

Gendry stared at her a beat longer.  A flicker of panic whispered over her face.  Like she was worried he wouldn’t want to now that he’d seen her.  Gendry lifted his eyes to the rest of her.  She was starting to work her pants down her hips more slowly, waiting to see if he would do as she said or not.  Gendry went quickly to his task, unlacing his breeches.

Arya smiled once they were both completely bared to each other.  Her confidence back.  She flicked her short hair behind her shoulder and moved to straddle him.  Gendry adjusted himself against the grain sacks and tipped his head to meet her kiss.  It wasn’t so frantic now.  She laid her hand on his cheek and kissed him more deeply.

Arya pulled back after a short time and looked down at him.  She frowned.  “Aren’t you supposed to do something?” She asked.

Gendry blinked up at her in a daze.  “What?”

Arya swallowed nervously and started to run her hands across his chest petting lower and lower.  The tips of her fingers brushed his cock and he gave a little start.  He’d been so immersed with kissing her he’d forgotten her purpose.  Gendry set his hands on her body.  She was so soft, but he could feel firm muscle tightly wound beneath her skin.

Gendry set his lips against her neck licked her skin.  She let out a gasp and lurched in his arms.  Gendry nibbled at her collarbone.  He slid his hands around her waist to her rear.  He felt a tremor run through her body.  He pulled his head back and looked up at her.

“Are you alright?” He whispered.

Arya kissed him again.  “Keep going.”  She ordered.

Gendry fixed his mouth around her left nipple and sucked.  Arya’s hands came up to cup his head.  He gave it a little nip and moved over to the other.  Arya let out a gasp as his fingers found her cleft.  She was already wet, but he wanted her dripping.  He would not have her first time be anything less than bliss.

Arya was panting into his mouth.  He wondered if she was aware of the keening sounds she was making.  Her fingers were clenched around his shoulders.  Her hips were grinding down against his hand.  She moved her head down to kiss his neck and he almost came right then and there.

“Gendry,” she whimpered.

He used his free hand to bring her face back to his.  He kissed her softly and nuzzled her cheek with his nose.  She pressed her lips together in a tight line and moaned.  Gendry pulled his hand away from her and settled it on her thigh.

“Do you want me to take over?” He asked, gently.  He didn’t think he could wait anymore.  His cock was throbbing.

“That wasn’t you taking over?” She murmured.  She rested her forehead against his.

Gendry smiled and kissed her again.  “Move down a bit.” He asked.

Arya shuffled her knees back along his body.  Gendry sat up to guide Arya down over him.  He watched her face carefully.  Waiting for any sign that she wanted them to stop.  She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and whimpered as he eased her down over him.

“Are you alright?  Take your time.”  He told her softly.

Arya shook her head and pushed herself the rest of the way down him in one swift motion.  She let out a cry and squeezed her eyes shut.  Gendry panicked.  He didn’t want to hurt her.  He wanted her to enjoy this.

“That wasn’t taking your time.” He chided.  “Are you hurt?”

Arya’s jaw was clenched tight.  She took a few deep breaths and slowly opened her eyes again.  She met his gaze with cool determination.  “It’s fine.  There’s no time to be slow now.”

Gendry tucked his fingers into her hair and rubbed her scalp gently.  “There’s time enough.”

He waited until he felt Arya finally relax around him.  He watched her unclench her jaw and her shoulders sagged.  He shifted beneath her, rocking them slowly.  Arya whimpered again, her knees dug into his back.

“This isn’t it, is it?” Arya asked.

Gendry set both hands on either side of her hips and rocked her up and back down slowly.  Arya let out a gasp of pleasure.  Gendry grinned at her.  She moved again on her own.  Gendry was focusing on Arya’s pleasure extra hard to try and make himself forget about his own for as long as possible.

Arya rocked her hips back and forth a few more times before she was trembling over him.  He could feel the muscles in her thighs quivering with exertion.  Gendry understood at once.  He wrapped his arms around Arya’s back and laid her back on the grain sacks.  He kissed her tenderly and rocked into her again.

Arya stared up at him through heavily lidded eyes.  Every time he thrust into her her eyes would widen briefly and flutter back to half lidded.  He began to pick up the pace.  Arya delighted in the change until he felt her shuddering beneath him.  Her eyes rolled back in her head.  He let out a gasp of his own as he came, too.

Gendry realized his mistake too late.  He stayed inside her a few minutes longer.  It couldn’t be helped now and she felt so good around him.  Arya blinked up at him.  A tired smile played on her lips.  Gendry smiled back and captured her lips with his own. 

Gendry pulled out of her and rolled back onto his back.  He fumbled around for his cloak.  Arya was still and silent beside him.  He was growing nervous.  Maybe she had wanted to stay on top.  Maybe he should’ve been patient and waited until she asked him to take over.

He threw his cloak over them both and leaned back to watch her.

“Are you alright?” He asked again.

Arya nodded.  She was silent a while longer and Gendry began to doubt it.  Did he not live up to her expectations?

“Do you suppose we have time to do that again?” She said at last.

Gendry rolled his head to the side to look at her.  She turned and looked back arching her brow suggestively.  He grinned at her.

“If there was a White Walker in this room right now I would still make time to do that again.” Gendry promised.

Arya rolled over him and kissed him again.  “But we’d kill the thing first.”

Gendry nodded seriously.  “Oh, absolutely.”  He agreed wholeheartedly just before Arya smothered him with more kisses.

* * *

 The horns jolted him from his sleep.  Arya was already on her feet sorting through the discarded clothing strewn across the floor.  Gendry pushed the cloak aside and stood to join her.  She handed him his pants wordlessly.  Gendry should say something.  He opened his mouth, but the sound of the horn was all that could be heard.

Gendry tucked his shirt into his pants.  Arya was turning around searching for her tunic.  Gendry saw it near the crates.  He picked it up and passed it to her.  She met his eyes and gave him a ghost of a smile before looking away and finishing her dressing.

“This is how you chose to spend your final hours, then?” The Hound’s growly voice sounded from the entrance.  Gendry nearly jumped out of his skin.

Arya fastened her belt around her hip and checked to make sure her Valyrian steel dagger was still in its place.  She looked at the Hound coolly.  Gendry hurriedly finished dressing.

“Jealous?” Arya asked, tugging her gloves on.

The Hound grunted and fixed Gendry with a mean stare.  Gendry reached down for his cloak.  The Hound snatched it from his hands and threw it across the storeroom.  Gendry stared up at the big man wondering if he was about to be punched or worse.

“Soldiers don’t wear cloaks into battle.  You want to trip and fall on a sword, you stupid fuckin’ twat?”

Gendry scratched behind his ear and stared at his feet. 

“Stop that.” Arya barked.

The Hound rolled his eyes.  Arya had her spear split in two and fixed on the right side of her belt.  Her bow was slung across her back.  Gendry’s stomach dropped as reality came crashing home.  They were about to go out and fight an army of dead men tens of thousands strong.  Arya was going to be on the battlements.  He was meant to be on the front lines.

Arya seemed to come to the same conclusion he had.  She was suddenly in front of him, pulling his head down for a fierce kiss that she softened after a half second.  He heard the Hound groan beside them.  They ignored him.

“You better not end up on the other side.” Arya warned.  “I’d hate to have to kill you.”

Gendry smiled down at her.  “Same to you.”

He kissed her again, squeezing his eyes shut hard.  He wanted to think about the kiss and nothing else for a second or two at least.  Arya’s gloved hand settled on his cheek before she pushed him away and disappeared from the storeroom.

The Hound’s big hand slapped down on the back of his neck and he practically dragged Gendry from the room.  Gendry stumbled after him uselessly.  The Hound’s grip was tighter than someone directing a soldier to fight.  It was more like a reminder of what he could do to him.  Or wanted to do to him.

“I have to grab my weapon.” Gendry said as they reached the forge.

The Hound gave a grunt and let Gendry slip from beneath his hand.  Gendry grabbed his mace from his workbench and hurried back to the Hound.  Gendry looked up and saw Arya standing beside her sister on the battlements. 

“Stop thinking what you’re thinking.” The Hound grumbled as they passed through the gates.

Gendry flushed.  “You don’t know what I was thinking.”  He said defensively.

The Hound didn’t look at him.  He scoffed.  “Get your mind out of her pants unless you want to end up dead.  None of those dead men give two shits if you fucked the wolf bitch or not.  They just want to kill you.”

“Yeah, thanks, I know that.” Gendry snapped, embarrassed that the Hound had been able to read him so easily.

The Hound pushed their way all the way to the front of the lines.  Gendry adjusted his grip on his mace.  They were at the front of one of three armies.  One of those armies was the Dothraki horde that had been the stuff of nightmares for all Westerosi children for generations.  The Unsullied were behind them and the Northern bannermen stood around him.  Some of those soldiers must feel pretty confident in their chances, but Gendry had seen their enemy in action already.  So had the Hound and Beric and Tormund.  They didn’t feel anything close to confidence until the dragons screeched overhead.

When bannermen charged into battle, they screamed out the names of their holdfasts.  For their homes.  For Karhold!  For Sunspear!  For Winterfell!  Gendry didn’t have a holdfast to call his own.  None that felt right.  Instead, his own battle cry was a steady loop in his mind.  Not for a lord or a castle.  He never felt an attachment to anything like that.

 _For Arya_! He told himself. 


End file.
